


Wind Me Up

by innerfray



Series: Emetwol Week 2021 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Dirty Talk, EmetWoL Week (Final Fantasy XIV), Enemies With Benefits, F/M, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Massage, Miscommunication, New Relationship, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Scratching, Secret Relationship, Switching, Teasing, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), emet has abandonment issues, reflections, striptease, switch!emet, theyre switches your honor, wol going on a little bit of a power trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerfray/pseuds/innerfray
Summary: “You’re always slouching, Emet-Selch,” she mused. “Maybe I should help you loosen up a bit.”[Ambigously set during Shadowbringers, Emet/Wol enemies with benefits]
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: Emetwol Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165256
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	1. Tease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Emetwol Week 2021 - Day 2, "Tease"

A moment of rest on the First was a rarity, one that the warrior of darkness did not intend to squander. The Pendants was quiet, and any hurried knocks at her door from troubled Scions were blissfully absent - at least for tonight. Though it was selfish, she knew that she’d be more centered for the next battle if she took some time to herself now.

Clad in just a simple black cotton robe, she withdrew her soul of the Red Mage from one pocket, thumbing it as she took its power within. X’rhun Tia would likely be appalled at her using the power of the Red for mere utility, but she wasn’t quite adept enough to combat the Sin Eaters of the first with it. She was, however, excellent at boiling water using a carefully placed burst of fire. 

Stirring tea leaves into the mug with a small spoon, she settled into a comfortable armchair. There was a pleasant breeze blowing in through the windows, and she reveled in it. Being alone was a simple pleasure she didn’t get to enjoy much anymore. She inhaled the peppermint and lemongrass steam wafting up from her tea and sighed, content.

Her thoughts drifted, as they did so often lately, to resident tag-along Ascian Emet Selch. They’d been engaging in various illicit activities since she had arrived on the First, which she was sure her fellow scions wouldn’t approve of. But they’d been successful at keeping it under wraps, at least for now. As much as she detested him at times, she couldn’t deny that something about him drew her in. Their relationship (if you could call it that) was a mutually beneficial agreement.

Everything about engaging with Emet indulged something terrible in her, something dangerous. Still, a part of her wanted to keep it going as long as she could - almost out of spite to her position. Being a picture-perfect hero was less than ideal, at times.

The idea hit her like lightning - of course! What better way to relax than to spend some quality time with her disreputable nighttime visitor? She even knew an easy way to draw him out. She'd figured out that somehow, he could always hear her when she mentioned his name. She could certainly use his particular brand of distraction.

“Emet-Selch?” She called out to the empty room. Before she could even take her second sip of tea, a portal of darkness appeared, and Emet-Selch stepped out of it on cue. He wore a mischievous expression as if he knew exactly why he had been summoned.

She had to stifle a smile herself. For some reason, that smug attitude made her feel like teasing him a bit more today.

“My dear hero,” he tutted, “Shouldn’t you be out there preparing to battle with a Lightwarden? My hopes for your success are falling fast.”

“I should,” she agreed, “but playing the Hero can get tiring, day in and day out. It’s not really in my nature.”

He grinned, catlike. “I know. ‘Tis why you’ve decided to call on me, your dearest enemy, for companionship.”

“Sure," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "But it’s pretty pathetic that I can get you to show up just by calling out, don’t you think? The other Ascians might start to think you’re desperate.”

He walked toward her with measured steps and planted his hands on either arm of her chair, caging her in. He leaned down, his face dangerously close to hers. “Watch your mouth, hero. Ascian slayer you may be, but I still have power beyond your comprehension.”

“Or so you think,” she said, meeting his gaze impassively. She might normally have perceived his actions as threatening, but she knew better. For some reason, she was utterly convinced that until it was necessary for him to so, Emet-Selch would not harm her. “I think you underestimate me,” she continued, and she took his forearms in her hands and pushed them off forcefully, breaking his hold on the chair. He staggered backward, glowering at her. 

“Fine,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I am simply desperate, doggedly seeking your companionship. But to call out for me requires desperation as well.” She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, and his eyes glinted in victory. He crossed his arms, tapping his foot and examining her still-lounging form. 

“So, what now, my dear?” Emet asked. “Shall we continue these jabs, or move on to something more _interesting_?”

“I enjoy the jabbing, honestly,” she said, standing up and placing her beverage down on the side table with a meaningful thump.

Despite the confidence radiating off him, his body language always conflicted with it. Standing upright, she was nearly taller than him with how poor his posture was. It made her wonder what kind of burden a man had to carry for his body to contort in on itself as his did.

“You’re always slouching, Emet-Selch,” she mused. “Maybe I should help you loosen up a bit.”

“I don’t need help loosening up,” he scoffed. “If anything, you’re the one in need of relaxation, Hero.”

She kept her gaze locked with his, her lips quirked. In her eyes was a question, and he squinted back trying to discern the answer she wanted from him. The silence warred between them, a battle of attrition.

“That being said, I… might accept assistance.” he acquiesced after a few moments. _If it’s from you,_ the omitted words hung in the air.

“Good, because I won’t offer a second time,” she said, rising from her chair and crossing the distance between them. She sank her hands into the soft fur of his overwrought collar and tugged him toward her. “Now, take this awful thing off.”

She was pleased to see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. The warrior wasn’t sure exactly why he chose to listen to her, to concede control even briefly to someone he saw as beneath him - but it was something she took full advantage of when she could. He probably wasn’t used to anyone standing up to him. Maybe her ability to defeat other Ascians excited him. Regardless of his reasons, he nodded, his decision made.

Emet-Selch snapped, and his robes were gone. He was left bare, save for some simple black pants.

“What are you planning, little hero?” he asked. She noticed his breaths were coming quickly. He was excited, _already,_ and she knew she'd be able to be a bit more mean to him than usual.

In lieu of a response, she opened the drawer of the nearby vanity and removed a glass vial. The viscous golden liquid sloshed languidly within, and she wiggled it in front of his nose.

“Massage oil,” she said simply, and his eyebrows shot up. Her finger found his forearm, tracing circles down it like a promise. He bit his lip. “Lay down and I’ll show you,” she murmured. 

Wordlessly, for once, he crossed to the bed and laid down on his stomach. He shifted his face to the side and looked up at her through strips of dark hair, gold shining out through the bruising purple that surrounded his eyes. Stretched out, he was so long his feet nearly dangled off the small bed.

“Well?” He rasped. “Are you coming?”

She shook her head to clear it. It was easy to get lost admiring him, which perhaps was a bad habit to get into. He looked so vulnerable waiting for her there, and yet again she wondered why he would do something like this with her at all.

But she wasn’t complaining.

“Yes, of course” she said, winding up to a jog before leaping onto the bed. The force of it flung him up a few inches, and he grunted in annoyance as he landed heavily. The bed jostled a bit with aftershocks. 

“You’re unbearable,” he hissed, glaring over his shoulder. “Get on with it!”

“Patience, Emet Selch. You’ve lived, what, thousands of years? Surely you can wait a few moments more.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she slung one leg across him to straddle his hips, which hushed him quickly. She took the oil bottle and removed the stopper, pouring a drop in the center of his back. He flinched, and she supposed it must be because the fluid was still cold. But it didn’t seem like an unpleased flinch. Smiling impishly, she dropped a few more, letting it pool in the curve of his spine and drip down the sides. He shuddered beneath her.

For a Garlean who’d seen war, his back was remarkably unblemished. Scarless, marbled, and firm beneath her. Taking a finger, she traced the oil from his spine outwards, twisting it into little circles and stars with featherlight touch. 

“ _Ah_ -” he started, but before he could embarrass himself further he placed a hand over his mouth.

“You don’t need to be quiet,” She said, pulling his hand away gently. “Nobody is around tonight. Besides, your arms need to be relaxed for this.”

“I suppose,” he said, still slightly out of breath. He didn’t sound convinced. He loosened his arms, placing his hands palm down near his head.

With her long fingernails, she repeated the motion from before, dragging them through the oil and then tracing patterns on his skin. Her nails were sharp, pressing in a bit harder than her fingertips had, and he was shaking now. She could feel his back tightening with effort, trying so hard not to buck against the bed, up against her as she marked him with delicate scratches. In a last-ditch effort to break through his composure, she dug her nail in near his shoulderblade, leaving a small crescent-shaped mark that brought a cry to his lips.

“ _Ngh_ \- are you ever going to actually start?” he snapped, looking back at her. He was panting, his eyes half-lidded, and she felt a rush of pride. 

“This is all part of the process,” she asserted. “Are you saying it doesn’t feel good? I can stop.”

“It… does feel good, yes,” he admitted.

“Then I’m going to continue, oh _almighty_ Emet-Selch.”

She continued to trace patterns against him, and his protests ceased. Her fingers mapped the expanse of his back, across his arms. They were toned but not overly muscled - which made sense, since he was a sorcerer. Nothing about him was particularly brawny, just larger than the average Garlean. He quivered every so often, muffling his moans into the pillow. It was probably hard for someone - some _thing_ \- like him to fully let go, but she would try her best. The warrior of light was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Now to work out these knots.”

He seemed tenser and more riled up than he had been moments ago. That she could reduce someone so powerful to nothing beneath her was beyond heady. Of course, she would let him take his pleasure from her eventually. But it would always, always be on her terms.

She began to knead, and he exhaled heavily. Her previous actions had left him as taut as a bowstring, but the pressure she exerted finally saw him begin to loosen. His shoulders were particularly tight, as was his lower back. Perhaps these were the source of his constant slump. She dug in challengingly, finding the solid muscle beneath her fingers and pressing in, working the knots apart.

Her fingers slipped and slid easily across him, the oil warming and softening his skin. Emet Selch gasped, his head rolling fully to the side. From here she could see his profile, his prominent nose, and his eyelids fluttering shut. She could hear his jittering breaths, punctuated by the occasional “ _Ah_.” 

He looked beautiful, falling apart for her like this.

After some time, she felt satisfied with her work. She rolled off of him, laying beside him and propping herself up on one elbow. His chest still heaved up and down from his attempts to steady himself.

“So, how do you feel?”

“Better than I have in some time,” he admitted breathlessly, turning his head to face her but unable to fully roll himself over yet. His cheeks were flushed, and he curled his lips into a small, but genuine, smile. “Had I known you were so good with your hands, Hero, I would have sought your company much sooner.”

“You’re well aware of my skills with my hands,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “you just never asked for something different. Shockingly single-minded, aren’t you, Emet Selch? Almost like us mortals you look down upon.”

“I am confined to this flesh, and my needs are perfectly reasonable,” he said, exerting considerable effort to turn sideways and mirror her pose. “My back feels divine now, yes, but are you ready to divert those attentions elsewhere?” 

She smiled, keeping her eyes fixed pointedly on his own, the tent in his pants haunting her peripheral vision. “Where?” She asked, as sweetly as possible. He glared at her. 

“Don’t make me say it,” he said, his face reddening further.

“Say it,” she jeered back.

Refusing to concede, he leaned in and kissed her, the shock of it catching her words in her mouth. He pulled her flush against him, sliding his tongue into her mouth urgently, and she threaded a hand through his hair on instinct. He was sucking on her bottom lip before she remembered that she had a game to win. With all her willpower, she extricated herself from the kiss and pulled her mouth away from his. He chased after her, his eyebrows furrowed at her sudden disappearance.

“Say it,” she said again. He groaned, exasperated and impatient.

“Fine! I want you. I want you this instant. _I need you, hero._ ” He growled. “Is this what you wanted?”

It was like music to her ears, and she sighed at his final admission.

“And why do you want me so badly, Emet-Selch?” She asked.

“Because you’re powerful. Beautiful. Because you infuriate me. And you remind me -” he cut himself off, closing his eyes hard before starting over.

“Look,” he said, peppering her neck with kisses as he spoke, “Let me repay you this kindness. I abhor owing a debt.” His hand wandered down to the tie of her robe, grasping for it, making to pull it loose. She stopped him, snatching it in place before he could complete his mission.

“You know, I’m actually feeling rather tired. I think we should call it a night.”

He froze, his eyes wide.

“What?” He said, dumbly. “But… all that… why?”

She wriggled away from his grasp and stretched theatrically against the bed, arching up in a way that pressed her breasts nearly out of her robe before collapsing with a contented sigh. She popped her neck to both sides and smiled at him. “Listen, I wanted to take tonight to relax. Personally, I’m feeling _fully refreshed_ after all that. Think I’m going to rest for a bit. Why not come back tomorrow morning?”

He gazed back at her stonily, his entire body vibrating with repressed want. But the hint of a smile on his face told her that a part of him was truly enjoying this. 

“I understand now. You’re a siren,” he declared, snapping his fingers and appearing upright and fully clothed beside the bed. “You think you can toy with me, do you? I’ll hold you to that, hero. The moment you wake, I will be here, waiting.”

She grinned upon seeing that his posture was notably straighter. Though she was sure he would return bowed as usual come tomorrow. He vanished into the darkness, leaving her alone in a room that had become far, far too hot.

“Good things come to those who wait, Emet,” she whispered with a smirk, knowing he would hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to explore some fun, sexy tension with this ship and thought the “tease” prompt was a perfect push to do that. Parts 2 and 3 to this (For the prompts "Lover's Quarrel” and "Lover") will be posted later in the week on the appropriate day!
> 
> I wrote this to just have some fun with these two without any of the angst or heavy feelings I might usually throw-in, lmao
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](http://innerfray.tumblr.com) or [twitter! ](http://twitter.com/innerfray)


	2. Lover's Quarrel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Emetwol Week 2021 - Day 6, "Lover's Quarrel"

It was unconscionably early, truth be told, but the warrior wanted to make sure she left before Emet-Selch showed up. Make him sweat a bit, see if he’d really seek her out. She wasn’t sure why she felt like toying with him in this way, it almost felt natural to her. Like she’d known him her entire life, and this little game was simply the obvious course of action. 

Emet-Selch would surely rise to her challenge, and the idea thrilled her. 

Rushing past the sparsely populated morning crowds of the Crystarium, she made her way toward the Amaro stables. 

The Stablemaster beamed at her as she made her way to the counter. “One for Slitherbough, please,” she said, pushing some gil into the thickly bearded man’s hands and glancing around to make sure she hadn’t been followed. 

“Of course,” He said, placing the gil in the cashbox behind the counter. “Honored for your patronage, Warrior. Let me go and fetch our best steed for you. It may take a bit longer to coax her out, but trust me - she’s worth it.” He winked at her, and the Warrior of Light forced a smile back. Too polite to rush him, she settled for bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet as she waited.

After several minutes, the Stablemaster brought out a particularly large and glossy gray Amaro.

“Only the finest for our Warrior of Darkness,” he said, and he handed her the reins. “She knows the way. Enjoy your flight, miss.”

A deep, chirruping sound came from the birdlike creature, and she stroked its beak. Teleportation would have been a lot faster, but Emet-Selch surely wouldn’t expect her to take an Amaro there. And even aside from that - sometimes she genuinely enjoyed taking the long way. The First was a beautiful land, and getting to enjoy it without an agenda from the air was a pleasure. Flying on her own Chocobo was always an option, but there was something especially compelling about letting the creature take the lead. It left her free to admire the view. 

The Amaro took a galloping start before lifting off, its great wings extending whip-like out to either side. They ascended quickly, breaking free of crystarium’s gilded glass towers. The warrior of light’s eyes watered with the speed of their ascent. Her Amaro’s coat was shining, feathers brushed to perfection - he hadn’t been kidding about giving the Warrior the best he had. She crowed, gallantly, as if acknowledging her rider’s admiration. That was deserving of another pet, which she gave with vigor on the side of its neck.

“Good girl,” she said, taking in the view with a grin. “Off we go!”

——

Emet-Selch appeared in the Warrior of Light’s room at the Pendents at precisely the time she tended to wake up in the morning, and found her bed empty and unmade. He attempted to keep his face neutral, but a vein near his eye began to twitch. 

Placing himself in positions of power throughout his many mortal lives meant that the sting of abandonment had healed over. It was an old wound. He hadn’t expected the emptiness of the room to knock the wind out of him. Someone blatantly choosing to move against him like this would have been considered blasphemous for - except _her_.

Without thinking, he began pacing the room. She wanted to play games with him? He would not play the fool for the Warrior of Light, no, he would not allow her to leave him as everyone had before. Emet-Selch would sooner cut things off with her than let that happen.

The idea that he might care for the Warrior of Light as more than simply a lover was something glossed over, in his fury. It was a truth he would choose to ignore. 

That road led only to ruin. 

“Bah. Zodiark help me,” he growled, teleporting away nearly as quick as he had appeared.

——

The warrior of light was enjoying the strong breeze, which fanned her hair out behind her as she flew. The clouds above reflected hues of lavender from the bright purple trees of Lakeland. There was a dense, misty element to the air - as if it might rain at any moment. 

“Running away from me, Hero?” An irritated voice called from beside her. The warrior turned and saw Emet-Selch floating along through the air next to her mount, his head in his hands, the picture of arranged boredom. “And here I thought I was a welcome visitor to your bedchambers. It seems I was mistaken.” 

The sight of him careening through the sky at the same pace as the Amaro was borderline comical, with robes flapping and bangs whipping in his face. She had to stifle a laugh. 

“You’re not mistaken,” she corrected, trying to keep a straight face. “I just wanted to see if you’d actually chase after me.” 

That cracked his facade, just a fraction - his lips twitched down into a not-quite-frown. “And here I am. You appear to be taking this in jest. Do you truly think it wise to toy with an immortal being, Hero?”

“I’m aware it’s unwise,” she said, and that raised one of his eyebrows. She shrugged. “For some reason, I feel compelled to. Toy with you," she clarified. "But doesn’t it feel like we’ve been doing this for a long time? Even though we’ve only known each other for a few weeks?”

He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out of his face with a grimace. “It does, yes, and that infuriates me.” The Amaro crooned at him sympathetically, not seeming to be bothered at all by his strange new flying companion. 

“Are you… angry at me?” she asked, her heart beating fast. “My intention was not to upset you - I thought it would be exciting to draw things out a bit.”

“You speak as if you weren’t the one who approached me first,” he snapped. “Yes, I am angry. You have utterly disrespected me, taken me for a fool!”

With the way his voice rose and fell, it seemed like he had worked himself out of whatever tactical approach he had been planning. He took a deep breath. “Listen well, Hero. While I do appreciate your sense of humor, and your penchant for games, I have a request if we are to continue this arrangement.”

“What is it?” She asked.

“Never leave me alone like that again,” he said, simply, his expression sobering. “If you have committed to seeing me, commit to it. The next time this happens, I will not chase after you. You will not see me alone again.”

The cool adrenaline of shame covered her. He seemed particularly sensitive in regards to abandonment, though she didn’t know why. Either way, it was obvious she had hurt him. She took a deep breath, her ears hot and red, and blinked heavily. “I’m sorry, Emet-Selch. It was wrong of me to assume your feelings.”

He nodded at that, a satisfied purse to his lips. “I can see you are sincere,” he said. “Do not presume to think me incapable of feeling again.”

“I won’t.”

The Amaro began gliding downward, and the thick trees of the Rak’Tika Greatwood drew closer as they descended. It struck her that perhaps he wouldn’t be quite so upset unless he was more attached to their arrangement than she had expected. Where was the calculating, smooth-talking, arrogant Ascian who had greeted them in the Crystarium?

He wanted her, that she knew. But now he wanted her to understand him, to consider his feelings beyond sex - and that was something more than she had prepared for. And something she couldn’t fully unpack, not yet.

“So… see you tonight?” She ventured. Her white flag, waving, waiting for his response.

“Yes,” He said, looking away from her. There was a hint of a flush across his cheeks. “I’ll find you near the flower fields in Fanow.”

She nodded, giving him a serious salute. “I’ll be there, Emet. I promise.”

He gave her a small, tentative smile. “I hope so, Hero.”

Thick leaves and branches obscured the Warrior’s vision as they flew through the canopy, and when the Amaro broke through to the woods below, Emet-Selch had vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late post, the week got away from me! appreciate ya'll reading along so far :)
> 
> Next chapter is for the "Lover" prompt. There will be smut. -yoship voice- please look forward to it


	3. Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a VERY late submission for the Day 7 Emetwol week prompt: "Lover."
> 
> Tags have been added to reflect explicit chapter content.

After a long day of exploring ruins and searching for Rak’Tika’s Lightwarden, the warrior of light’s excitement and anxiety had twisted her thoughts into a fog. It was growing late in the evening. And she had… a date, for lack of a better word. It seemed silly in its simplicity, but it was true. 

The stakes if she stood him up this time were higher than she’d like to pay.

Slitherbough’s fire pit was as inviting as ever, and the evening found everyone winding down around it’s warmth. The glow of the fire was washed out in the everlasting light of the sky above. Y’shtola was walking through their latest clues from the ruins, and everyone seemed to be more relaxed than usual. It was the perfect time to slip away.

“I’d like to turn in early,” the Warrior blurted out.

“I was looking forward to discussing your thoughts on our newest leads,” Y’shtola said, frowning. “I know you’re in need of rest, but in case you’ve forgotten, we are short on time.”

“I understand,” she replied. “Perhaps just a break, then, and I’ll be back to discuss. Does that sound reasonable?”She crossed her fingers mentally, hoping she didn’t seem too snippy or suspicious.

“It does,” Yshtola said, raising an eyebrow. “Though lately I find myself wondering where our Warrior steals away to? Previously you’ve been so… duty bound.”

“I find being bound to be a bit of a hit or miss,” she said, her fingers twitching upon realizing the double entendre. If Yshtola noticed, she did not comment. “Regardless… please trust me. I’m doing what’s best for my well being - surely you can’t argue that this is against our mission?”

“It is not,” Yshtola admitted. “Fine, then. But I am worried, Warrior. Do not drift too far. We need you.”

“I know,” she said, the smile hurting a bit more than usual. To be needed, relied upon - it was what anyone would want. But to her, it was a burden. It chased her at all hours, becoming unbearable. She needed the kind of escape only the arms of an Ascian could offer.

“See you soon,” she said, removing herself from the stump she had been precariously perched on. She gave the group an awkward nod before walking a bit too quickly to the edge of town. Her face was the picture of calm, yet her legs shimmied, passing faster and faster against each other like a wind-up toy. 

The flowers, sparkling azure against the daytime, greeted her mercifully with solitude. He wasn’t here yet.

Why was her heart beating so fast? She had asked to see him, and it was not the first time they had done this - her actions had pushed their relationship askew. somehow. She’d touched something terrible inside of him with her games, her casualness. 

Did she care for him? Was this warmth in her stomach more than simply anticipation of sex? It was something she wouldn’t, couldn’t acknowledge, for if she did she’d start thinking about the future - about the battle to the death that was nearly inevitable. About her hands around his throat, their teeth bared for other reasons entirely. Contemplating it made her eyes sting, and she shook the thought free.

“You’re early,” his voice curled around her ears, in her mind, making her jump. He appeared next to her, taking hold of her hand and kissing it too formally. His golden eyes bored into hers, needlelike in their piercing. Watching, waiting - perhaps even worrying? 

Even after this morning, did he worry she would leave?

“Shall we away, my dear?” He asked. His thumb rubbed circles into her hand. 

“I.. promised I’d be back tonight, unfortunately. I can’t stay with you long.” She said, scratching her neck apologetically. “Is there a place nearby we could…?”

He frowned at that. “A pity. I was thinking of taking us something a bit more lavish, tonight.” Though he was not pouting, she could hear it in his voice as he said, “Would you indulge me?”

What sort of accommodations would seem lavish to someone immortal? “Absolutely,” she found herself saying before she could stop.

“Lovely,” he said, and he brought her into a tight embrace. “You’ve been keeping me waiting far too long, my little siren,” he whispered against her hair. “Let us remedy that.”

The darkness enveloped them, and her sight failed her.

—————

When her vision cleared, the warrior of light found herself in a cozy upscale cabin. Four polished wooden walls gleamed around them, interrupted by a small square window through which light filtered. There was a full length mirror of gilded gold next to a small set of drawers, all framing a large four-poster bed which took up the majority of the room. It was draped in black gossamer, with fluffy red and cream colored silks covering the length of it. 

“Is it to your liking?” Emet-Selch asked, absently starting to remove his gloves. “I grew tired of the lack of variety here on the First.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, grinning at him. Even now, she felt her nerves melting away in favor of excitement. “What’s in the drawers?”

He waved a hand in its direction. “Various… implements. Items. Whatever you wish for, it is likely there.”

She peered at it, curious for a moment, before snapping back to meet his gaze. “I’d like to investigate, at some point. But I think what I wish for is right here, actually.” she said, and she leaned in closer to him, her eyes drifting to his lips.

“Eager, so _eager_ my dear hero” he mused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You thought I would simply fuck you? Take you quickly, like an animal? No, I would like to think we both deserve more than that. We shall take our time.”

“I suppose I owe you a treat,” she said, smirking. “What did you have in mind?”

Emet-Selch walked slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms and legs. 

“Would you dance for me?" He asked. "Would you show me everything?" She flushed at the implications of his request. This was significantly more intimate than their various trysts behind closed doors. Frenzied, desperate thrusting in any dark corners they could hide in.

She’d be exposed, completely. And the thought of it _exhilarated_ her. At this moment, his undivided attention belonged to her alone.

“I’d enjoy that, Emet,” she breathed, and without pause she unclasped the lightweight armor plating her chest. It came free with a snap, falling to the floor, and she could see his eyes taking her in.

“Hold on,” he said, breathless, and he snapped. An orchestrion appeared on the drawers, playing a song she’d only heard at the Beehive. It was sensual, with a beat that vibrated and pulsed through her. The bass of it seemed to infuse the bones of the building with rhythm. 

“Even better,” she breathed, her mouth dry. Doing something like this was unlike anything she’d tried before, and she began to move with gusto. Running her hands down her body to remove her leg plates, she kicked them gracefully aside to pool with the chestpiece.

“Have you been thinking about this a lot?” She asked, her voice low as she began to peel her tunic up. It inched agonizingly slow, up and up, unfurling across her stomach. The curve of her breasts, her arms - and then it, too, was on the ground. The music took hold of her fully, and she closed her eyes and gave herself over to it. She ran her hands down over her breasts, still covered by a single layer of undergarments, her mouth parting soundlessly as she skirted the nipples. 

“Yes,” he said, his mouth running dry. He licked his lips. “The past day has been difficult,” he admitted. The blankets puckered under the clench of his hands, his knuckles white. Even without looking she could tell from the crack in his words how badly he wanted to touch her. But she also knew that he’d hold out as long as he could - their game from yesterday continued.

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad.” 

Closing her eyes had heightened every touch to electrifying levels, so she continued to caress herself - her arms, her thighs, her neck, as she undulated in time to the music. She sighed and opened her eyes, finally, locking his gaze.

Oh, she had him now. His eyes were soft, dark, half-lidded, with tense shoulders hiked up slightly. Red bloomed across his nose and cheeks. The face of a man absolutely starved.

How much more could she rile him up?

“I’ve been excited too,” she admitted, pivoting and bending over to slide her pants slowly down. It was a generous view, and she gave her ass a wiggle in the air as she finished peeling off the offending layer. Her pants were sent flying toward the rest of the discarded clothes. Only her smallclothes remained.

“Have you?” He said, his pupils blown wide as he watched her continue to dance. “I could only hope, Hero.”

The beat of the song picked up, and she felt the exertion building in the slippery heat on her skin. One hand snaked between her legs as she swayed, and she moaned as she teased herself, hearing the sound echoed from him several feet away. She grinned at him and bit her lip. 

“I can tell you need me, Emet-Selch,” she said, reaching out invitingly with one hand and inching toward him. He gulped at her words, not bothering to refute them as she stepped forward to the bassline of the song. Like a cat, her hips pulsed with each step. “So I won’t lie to you.”

“And what would you tell me?” he breathed, hissing as she turned and lowered herself backward into his lap. His hardness pressed up into her, and when she rolled her hips back his mouth fell open. “Oh,” he said, and it almost sounded like a sob.  
  
“I did want to fuck you yesterday,” she said, “and the day before that. And that day before that,” with each repetition, she grinded down against him, and she could hear the grit of his teeth close to her ear. “But the waiting makes it so much better, doesn’t it?”

Emet-Selch could only nod.

“And look at that,” she continued, pointing ahead of them.

He gazed over her shoulder to the point of her attention. The full length mirror showed them in full, her nearly naked form straddling his lap. He could see his own face over he shoulder - his lips parted, wantonly, and he almost felt ashamed.

Almost.

In their reflection, he watched transfixed as she took removed the final layer, leaving her chest bare. She took one of her breasts in hand, pinching and rolling the nipple, while the other one skirted back to rub his thigh teasingly. His hands balled into the blankets now, clutching helplessly for purchase as she explored herself and pressed further into his lap.

“Fuck, hero…” he said, his breath hot and sharp against her neck.

“Do you want to touch me?” She asked, huskily, arching her neck to one side and looking back at him.

“More than anything,” he said.

Aching need for him rippled through her, and it was pointless to fight it any longer.

“I’ll let you take me tonight. If you beg,” she said, her voice coyly wrapping around the words. If only his pride would allow him to respond as enthusiastically as she wanted.

“Please, hero,” he said, without hesitation. “I need you. Please, let me touch you.”

The desperation in his voice was all she needed. Satisfaction bloomed within her.

“I see. Then touch me, Emet-Selch.”

The dam had been broken. His hands surged forward to grab her breasts, caressing and pinching the nipples roughly. Lips pressed hard against her neck, and she gasped. 

“Take this off,” he growled, and with one snap her remaining undergarments were gone. He flipped around so she was facing him and took her mouth, surging against her. The feeling of his robes against her bare skin shocked her, and she slid against the soft fabric with a moan. His tongue slid into her mouth, drinking deep.

Their dance felt so comfortable, so familiar, as if she’d bedded him countless times instead of only a few. His cock, heavy and hard already, pushed up against her as he devoured her mouth. She grinded against it, smirking against his lips, and he squeezed her ass in response. 

“Patience, little hero,” he breathed, giving her ear a sharp nip. “You’ve asked me to touch you. What else would you have from me, tonight?”

“I want to ride your face,” she said, breathlessly. “I want to taste your cock. And then I want to take it.”

“How can I say no to such sensible terms?” he said with a chuckle, turning her and settling her against the bed. It was much bigger that she had thought initially, now that she was being swallowed in the duvet. The silk, though soft, held her steadily.

“You’ve been a tease, warrior,” he said, crawling up to hover over her. He stared down, his hair falling in his eyes, and she was struck again by how beautiful they were. “And yet I can’t bring myself to stay away from you.”

“Then don’t,” she said, solemly, and pushed him to the side. He toppled to the bed. “Be good for me,” she said, shifting up, one thigh on either side of his ears. “And I’ll be good for you.”

“Gods, I will,” he breathed, and she lowered herself down. 

She jolted as his tongue dragged against her, languidly sweeping up her slit. Reminding herself to breathe, she said, “Keep going,” as steadily as she could.

His tongue explored her, pulsing against her clit in time to the music, and she pitched forward. The bedframe provided excellent stability, but her thighs were beginning to shake as he reached up and slid one finger inside her.

“So wet, already,” he murmured, muffled through her sex - though she could hear the pride in his voice. He added one more finger, sliding it roughly in next to the one already inside her, and she cried out as his tongue assaulted her clit.

“So desperate for me,” he continued, and he lapped up against her again, faster this time. Her legs collapsed, pressing her fully against his mouth. His fingers withdrew and he began to fuck her with his tongue in earnest.

Her quivering grew violent, and he held her hips hard so she couldn’t buck. The heat was building far too quickly, and she felt herself quickly nearing her peak.

“Emet-Selch, please, I -”

He stopped. With one snap, he was standing beside the bed, a devilish grin on his face. With that teleport, his robe had finally been removed. His erection now sat tall and visible. She felt herself leaking against the silks beneath her, her core aching, and she bit her lip in frustration. 

“Now, little warrior - you wanted to taste my cock?”

“But not _before_ …” she gritted out, frustrated. Then she took a deep breath. “Okay, perhaps I deserved that. Fine then. Scoot back.”

He obliged, and she appreciated the litheness to his arms and legs. His posture did seem slightly better than usual, and she wondered if it was the lingering effects of her massage.

Either way, she had no time to ponder. She kneeled in front of him and took his cock in hand matter-of-factly. She gave it a few experimental strokes, spitting on it to slick it up. His hips twitched up, but otherwise, his face was painfully neutral.

Her tongue laved long and slow against him, one finger teasing at his tip when she was giving attention to the base.

“Ah - that’s my good girl,” he breathed, moaning as she took him fully in her mouth. Her lips pursed hard around him, and she glanced up to see his face. Beautiful, flushed, red - just like it had been the other day. Why did it feel so good to see him like this? His hands gripped hard in her hair, tugging her back down.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he said, and those words sent heat straight to her cunt. “Suck,” he commanded.

She complied, her tongue pressed against the underside of him as she took him again. Spit pooled as she increased her pace, one hand clasping the back of his thigh firmly for leverage. His length was quite slick now, but she knew she needed to keep going. Kissing the tip, she took him again, again, sucking as she fucked him with her mouth. One hand rested firmly on the back of his thigh, the other absently caressed his balls.

“E-enough,” he said, gripping her by the hair and pulling her off of him with a pop. His chest heaved. “On the bed.”

She stood up, leaning in to kiss him, deeply, and they fell together back onto the bed. Tangled, he worked his way on top of her, his tongue reaching into her open, pliant mouth. He took one of her legs and hoisted it over his shoulder, running two fingers up along her sensitized slit. They worked against her bud, and she moaned, her hips reaching upward, chasing his hand. Slipping them inside her, he could feel how wet she still was.

“One last chance to back out, hero” he murmured, driving his fingers hard into her. 

“I - ngh - wouldn’t dream of it,” she breathed between thrusts. “Twelve, just fuck me already, Emet-Selch.”

“Do not cry out for your gods here,” he said, pointing the head of his cock to her entrance. “Only I will give you relief.”

“Please,” she groaned. With that admission, he pressed inside her, her wetness enveloping him and taking him whole. He hissed, intending to allow her some time to adjust before he noticed her wriggling impatiently against him.

“I’m not delicate, Emet-Selch,” she breathed. “Don’t hold back.” 

He responded with a hard bite to her neck, sucking a bruise into it as he withdrew and snapped his hips back into her hard. 

“Ah - _Yes_!” she cried out as he set a brutal pace, fucking into her hard as he hoisted her other leg onto his shoulders. Folded as she was, she felt even tighter around him, and he hit her deepest parts as he slid in and out.

“I was worried when you didn’t show, before,” he panted, his hands threaded into hers, pressing them against the silk. “Now I see I was wrong to assume,” he said, thrusting again, she responded with a moan. “You chose me over your duty. I will not take that for granted.”

“It’s becoming increasingly hard not to,” she panted, grasping for him helplessly in an attempt to pull him even closer.

Her breaths, shallow and rough, were not giving her the oxygen she needed.

“You’re so good for me, Warrior,” he said, “so eager to please, even if you pretend you aren’t.” He leaned down, as close to her ear as he could manage with her legs on his shoulders. “Do you want me to fuck you like this all the time?” He asked, quietly.

She nodded, and his heart skipped a beat even as he drove deeper into her. 

“Do you want me to fill you up?” He asked, “Will you return to your friends with my seed between your legs? How depraved.”

“Always, yes,” the warrior hissed. Why be ashamed of the truth? The lightheadedness built within her, her body growing too hot. “Please… I need it.”

“You’re not as above me as you think, are you?” he said, his breaths running ragged.

“N-no,” she stuttered, screwing up her face a bit as her thighs began to ache. He released her legs from his shoulders - he must have realized the fatigue in her legs was catching up to her. She exhaled, wrapping them around his waist and snapping her hips up to meet his.

“ _Ah…_ ” Emet-Selch said, finally lost for words as she met his pace. He felt his release building steadily closer, and he pressed a hand into her ass, pressing her against him roughly. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, breathlessly, and she drove a hand between her legs without hesitation. She rubbed circles against her clit, frantic, and she could hardly breathe as his cock filled her again and again.

She felt so full, so thoroughly fucked that she could hardly comprehend the words that fell from her mouth. 

“”I’m so close… _Hades, please_ ,”

Those words pushed him abruptly to his edge, and he cried out. Her climax rose, pulsing around his twitching cock as he spilled inside her. She choked out a sob as her walls clenched around him, milking every drop.

He lay motionless on top of her for a moment, catching his breath. “Fuck,” she breathed out, her body seizing gently with aftershocks. 

Emet-Selch leaned back and gazed at the warrior of light with wide eyes, as though for the first time, and she smiled up at him softly. “Yes?” She asked.

“What... what did you call me, hero?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a cliche for the wol to say his true name during sex? yes. but do i love it every time? also yes.
> 
> chat w me about emetwol on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/innerfray)


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